Valentine’s Day was quiet this year.
We have had a cold and have had intense weeks, so there wasn’t really a big plan. Instead, it turned out to be a very good day in a fairly straightforward way.
We took a walk in the sun. Spent a long time among the Japanese knives and looked at them, compared them and held them. Things for the country. It still feels a little strange that everything will actually be unpacked soon.
We ate a hot lunch, bought coffee at NK and tried the sandwich of the month: a puff pastry sandwich with lemon curd that was just as delicious as it sounds.
Then we went to the Opera.
We managed to get tickets for the Magic Flute at three o’clock. Mozart as a composer is of course genius. The story is more debatable. But the set was great. The scenography, the pace, the comedy – everything was set.
Then we walked home.
The evening ended on the couch with the kids and popcorn, which turned out to be a perfect plan.
But the day still sparked a thought in my mind.
I can sense a duplicity when it comes to romance. Sometimes I miss that tingling feeling. To feel wanted, flirty and a little ridiculously expectant. At the same time, I appreciate something else that is perhaps more difficult to describe, but considerably more stable: the security, the peace, the feeling of being together.
In many ways it is a day like any other. And maybe that’s exactly the point.
Still, it’s strange how easily you get influenced by the idea of ​​what romance should look like. Is it about commerce? Does that more dramatic romanticism belong to youth? Or does it just change shape over the years?
I don’t actually know.
But I know that walking, coffee, opera and popcorn on the couch still feels like a really good combination.
Now we look forward to sports holidays and sea air
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